#cosmic inquisitor

[herearedragons]

The Dread One (Solas as an eldritch being)

AO3

Solas.

His is a plain, unassuming appearance, but it's firmly burned into your mind nonetheless.

He knows things. Ancient lore glimpsed from the Fade, but also other things that don't make sense. He tells a story about watching a young mage stand up to a demon, and you realize midway that this is a word-to-word retelling of your Harrowing. But it can't be, right? You were there. It was just you and that demon. He couldn't have seen that.

Right?

Conversations with him are fascinating, but they tend to... spiral. You come to compare notes about Fade rifts and end up staying for hours, listening as he speaks deeply and passionately about topics you'll only hazily remember - or, sometimes, you'll come to and realize that you are the one speaking passionately, telling him about your past or your hopes for the future, with no idea how you got to that topic in the first place.

He seems to enjoy your conversations. He's happy when you come by - eager, almost, but you have a feeling that it's not your company that he enjoys. He seems to be searching for something when you speak; sometimes you catch glimpses of something like hope in his expression, followed, inevitably, by disappointment.

He's in your dreams sometimes. Watching. Searching, there, too?

You see him in places where he doesn't belong. You see his eyes where they shouldn't be. For the longest time, you try to convince yourself that it's nothing, that all of these signs are just a trick of your own mind, but one day you slip.

In your dream, you meet those watching eyes instead of avoiding them, and now he knows that you know.

You know that he's studying you.

You gather the courage to speak with Cassandra. You tell her what's been happening. She frowns, taken aback. She's concerned. She says that this must be looked into.

You wake up. That conversation never happened.

You approach Bull as he's training in the courtyard. You tell him about your dreams. You can see how it makes him physically uncomfortable, and he agrees without hesitation that you need to get rid of Solas.

You wake up. That conversation never happened.

You ask Dorian in the library whether he's ever heard of anything like this. You're not sure why you bother anymore. You've tried so many times, by now.

But this time, Dorian's eyes light up. He leads you to a corner of the library, already rambling off theories, pulls a book off the shelves and begins feverishly leafing through it. He knows something. He's seen something like this before. Your chest fills with hope.

You wake up. That conversation never happened.

You don't try again, after that one. You're not sure how he knows that you're about to approach someone, but he catches you every time.

You don't visit him in the rotunda anymore. You don't take him on missions. It doesn't help. It feels like he's right behind your shoulder at all times.

He's gone from your dreams now, but that only makes things worse. You haven't woken up from what you didn't realize was a dream in a while, but what does that mean? Is what's happening now even real? Was your last mission real? Was your first kiss real? Are you going to wake up again, any minute now?

You decide that your only way out is to finish your task. Kill Corypheus, fulfill the Inquisition's purpose. Then, there will be no reason for Solas to be interested in you anymore, and you will have your life back.

So you do just that, no matter how much blood, fear and difficult decisions you have to get through.

You push your own pain aside. You win. The war is over.

During the celebration, someone informs you that Solas has disappeared from Skyhold. You breathe in relief.

But he comes back.

Two years later, you've gone through a mirror to a place you don't understand, and he's there, waiting for you. The fear is so overwhelming that for a moment you stop feeling the pain in your arm.

"I suspect you have questions," he says.

No. No, you don't. You don't want to ask him questions, you want to run, but the pain from the Anchor kicks back in, rendering you helpless on the ground. You have no choice but to talk.

All you can ask is, why?

And he tells you. He tells you exactly what he is. He tells you how lonely was his thousands-of-years slumber, how much he yearned for a connection, even with a lesser being such as yourself. How he wished to be understood; how he looked through every aspect of your being to find the best way to connect with you.

Unfortunately, he says, it did not work. Your limited mind would never be able to truly comprehend him. But the Anchor gave you a glimpse, a deeper one than most mortals can see.

However, he would like to have it back now. It's for your own good. He promises.

When he tears your arm off, you weep, not with pain, but with the relief of finally knowing the truth, knowing that what you experienced truly happened. Of finally knowing your enemy.

And then you wake up.

[halamshirals]

new daughter just dropped

[asmrrpaddict]

Favorite characters from favorite VAs

Some will have more than others if I can’t decide or they have a larger catalog of characters. Sorry if I spell names wrong. This actually turned out much longer than I expected, but have you seen my name? I like a lot of them! And this barely scratches the surface of my subscription list. Nothing is in any order.

Nomad Tales and Audio:

Caleb, Deacon, Conner, Caltraxus, Gavin, & the unnamed Werewolf from the Werewolf x Werewolf series

Redacted Audio:

Sam, David, Caelum, Gavin, & Vincent

Joseph Holloway:

Ivan, Grom, MJ Jarrod Tillus, Casper aka The Inquisitor

Good Boy Audio:

Hades, Yargwyn, Devlin, Kalimos, & Hipswitch (Ok, so I know Devlin and Hipswitch are voiced by Zsaku and Yuurivoice, but they are still GBA characters.)

Reverie Audio:

Law, Desmond, Neo, & Cyril

MasterMissy:

Ethan, Darrin, Jedidiah, Sammy, & Magnus

Escaped Audio:

Jean, Crow, Ivan, & Fletcher

Yuurivoice:

Seth, Alphonse, Charlie, & Aizawa.

Jouska: sadly a lot of his don’t have names, but I’ll come up with something Vampire (Vampire/Cupcake), Morph(eus), & Bounty Hunter or Cosmic??? from (Stardust and Cosmic)

Siren’s Son:

Thresh, Bek, Bren, Abul, Duke, & Faceless

Icey ASMR:

Damon, Nico, & Tatshiro

Scythe Audio:

Hunter, Dark, Kreed, Marcus, L, V, & Jay Jay (Again, L isn’t voiced by Scythe, but she is one of his characters.)

Shining Armor: Robert, Ellion, & Officer Ellis Knight

Nyxmoon Reads: Adam, Henry, & Aiden

Ycey Narrates:

Zach, Oliver, Edlin, & Morgan

AJ Audio

Alistair, Prince Yvan, King Atticus, & the dragon shifter from Eternally Madly Yours

(Yvan is voiced by Siren’s Son, but on AJ’s audio.)

Zsaku:

Xanthus, Zaros, & Ellis

[able-ryder99]

Space marine headcannon

I blame @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond and space marine 2 for this one.

Note: this is pure brainrot , spoilers i guess

Kill teams are all almost always composed of astartes from various chapters. Which is what makes them so effective in the first place. They use the codex as a guide line but utilize equitment and tactics that their original chapters never would due to preference or tradition.

Kill teams are more loose with regulations as a result but usually share incredibly close bonds with their comrades. they basically adopt each other as brothers.

Black Shields may be considered "dishonorable" by outsiders, but the death watch is generally more experienced, and they don't view the world in black and white. Titus is a great example of self-imposed exile, when Calgal (literally the chapter master of the Ultramarines) was looking for him the entire time.

Circumstances can often be out of a marine's control. Leading to an almost fatalistic attitude for most Black Shields, seeing themselves as a lost cause.

This leads to "adoption," other battle brothers giving in to the age-old Little-Brother-Hurt! Response: Not really considering the actual age of the black shield. The black shield doesn't really get a choice...(it's free real-estate!)

When we apply that to Titus, who has Ultra-Depression, his adoptive brothers get attached and care-a-whole-lot. Humans will pack bond with anything, space marines are worse, especially with "unclaimed" battle brothers.

Titus (hyper-compedent super soldier) becomes a flustered, blushing, shy mess from any act of kindness after Inquisitor Thumb Tack toutured him for 100 years.

Enough Emotial Baggage for a Whole Airport. But his brothers are there to help him unpack it all.

What do you all think they would do?

[the-northern-continent]

God I just love when Dragon Age does cosmic horror. It’s so much scarier than traditional cosmic horror, because you can see exactly how much the characters are misunderstanding the situation.

Because, like, the issue with sci-fi cosmic horror (or even urban fantasy cosmic horror) is that the horrors need to be unintelligible to me in order to be unintelligible to the characters. They’re modern folks, or at least near enough.

And if I don’t 100% know what’s happening, I can always tell myself that I 95% know what’s happening. That the monsters are just regular creatures with a couple new rules. That the spooky effects are one scientific discovery away from being cracked.

But in Dragon Age, we’re playing a time travel story from the wrong end. Instead of being the time traveller dropped into some poxy village and trying not to stand out, we’re the poxy villagers beholding cellphones for the first time. We’re the wardens entering bioengineering labs. We’re the inquisitors seeing row upon row of cryo chambers in the Deep Roads. We’re the mages tapping into the broken, fragmentary servers of a world wide web.

We’re the Thedosians casually mentioning “islands to the north”, when what’s actually up there is a goddamn continent.

We hear our characters react. We watch them breeze past things far beyond their comprehension. They think they 95% understand what’s going on. But they don’t, and we know they don’t. They wouldn’t be particularly bothered by seeing a working cellphone, and that’s what’s so scary.

Because, if that’s the case…

…what lives on our “islands to the north”?

[sweetmage]

I'm still so obsessed with Inquisitor!Anders, like what do you mean he was the sole survivor of a second chantry explosion during a council addressing the Mage/Templar war and he was just there by coincidence? Cosmically aligned bad luck.

[better-call-mau1]

Sabine: Hey, Marrok is about to take off his mask! We’ll finally find out who he is underneath!

Hera: My credits are on Barriss Offee. Those Holonet conspiracy theorists are still convinced she became an Inquisitor.

Ahsoka: What?? That doesn’t make any sense. It’s clearly not Barriss.

Sabine: Who says our theories have to make sense? I bet it’s Maul! That Zabrak is tough to kill.

Chopper: [warbling in binary]

Jacen: I’m with Chop! He’s either Mace Windu or Tech! You know what they say: no body, no death.

Shin: Does that apply to your father? Anyway, I’ll go with Eighth Brother. Similar helmet style and all.

Baylan: The voice and feet don’t match, though. Isn’t it possible that Marrok is simply an Inquisitor no one here has encountered before?

Thrawn: Possible, but unlikely. The distant, cosmic influence directing our collective narrative has consistently proven that they cannot resist inserting cameos whenever given the chance.

Ahsoka: Does anyone think it might be...Ezra...?

Sabine: That’s not funny! Don’t joke about the guy I’ve been desperately pining after — pining PLATONICALLY, guys! I swear! — for the last ten years turning to the Dark Side!

Jacen: Look! The mask is coming off!

Hera: Shush, everyone!

Marrok:

Yub nub? 😈

[lelianasbong]

thinking about who my first rook will be. beneath the cut because this is just me rambling about my Incredibly Specific world states with some romance brainrot sprinkled in

i've been thinking about it and as cool as the orb and dagger spellblade combo looks, i think i'm set on a rogue or warrior this time since i want to kind of Balance things out and in my primary world state, my Hawke and Inquisitor are both mages. and i miss being a squirrely little guy who doesn't have access to phenomenal cosmic power (4/5 of my Wardens are rogues i love stealing shit in origins okay i love kicking bombs and flasks i love pickpocketing I love slim couldry and the red jennies and getting those crits-) so i'm feeling qunari saboteur.

onto romance. as a player.... ok i feel like i'm in a love quintangle with all the women and davrin. it's tough when we know so little, and what little we know i really like! but i'd like to go wlw the first time, so davrin's out until i roll an antivan crow dwarf husband for him (they can mirror zevran and brosca I MISS THEEEMM).

thinking i'll save bellara for my fourth (with warden mahariel, inquisitor lavellan, and morrigan/merrill/solas) because she's so passionate about ancient elvhen history and magic. no idea what kind of rook to pair her with but like. thematically i'm into it

that leaves me with taash, neve, and lace competing for no. 1 honey (....emmrich and lucanis exist and i don't dislike them by any means i'm just Too Enamored with everyone else right now. they'll get their due). and they're all capable clever stunners i am SPOILED for choice even after i arbitrarily narrowed it down for myself for reasons that make sense only to me 🥰 (wasn't like this in 2009. though i will NOT hear any leliana slander <333 you can be wrong somewhere else)

[herearedragons]

dragon age………. cosmic horror AU

[pickelda]

9 People You Want to Know Better

tagged by @dreadfutures

I feel like I don't know anyone, so here’s a smattering of yall if you want to join in :^) @inquisimer @warpedlegacy @bishicat @fadedsweater @threeletterepithet

@effelants @the-rebel-archivist @rosella-writes @wolfs-dawn

Three ships: F!Inquisitor x Cassandra 😍🤭 | Hawke x Fenris | Essek x Caleb (CR2)

First ship: That I went insane over? Merlin x Arthur from BBC Merlin LMAOOOOSJDFKLSJDF

Last song: Cico Buff, Cocteau Twins

Last movie: I just went to see Longlegs in theaters. I really liked it. Perhaps a little overhyped.

Currently reading: I recently finished Way of Kings and have the next book sitting on my nightstand, but I probably won’t get to it until I get myself out of the deepest pits of DA hyperfixation (improbable for at least the next few months)

Currently watching: CreepCast. In my case it’s ‘currently listening’ (I listen to podcasts on my long commute) but it's on YouTube too. The hosts read and discuss creepy pastas and internet horror stories, the guys can be a little crude at times but they're mostly funny and bring some levity. As a reformed scaredy cat, I'm really liking the introduction to internet horror :^) Some stories are dumb and funny, others are very fucking good. The latest was Feed the Pig, which I ended up really enjoying.

But if I'm gonna plug one, it's gotta be The Left Right Game (start at the CreepCast Pt 1 episode, or the original story can be read here). There's also a produced podcast version done by QCODE but I'm not a fan of it. The CreepCast videos are split into two parts, for a total of about 8 hours of watching/listening. My husband and I listened to it while we were roadtripping to Niagara Falls for the solar eclipse in April. Really really fucking cool kind of cosmic horror story. I still think about it all the time.

Currently eating: My lunch today: https://cookieandkate.com/sweet-potato-arugula-wild-rice-salad-recipe/ I make this a lot because it's easy to prep for when I don't have leftovers to bring to work.

Currently craving: For my writing brain to come back from war. Also chorizo tacos.

Blank template below!

Three Ships:

First Ship:

Last Movie:

Last Song:

Currently Reading:

Currently Watching:

Currently Eating:

Currently Craving:

[tychodorian]

Character Introduction: Urien, the Inquisitor of Avrena

In King of Dust, Urien is the glue that holds the party together, carrying a burden that’s both deeply personal and cosmic in scale. As an inquisitor of Avrena, the goddess who protects the sacred balance between life and death, Urien is driven by a singular purpose: to eliminate anything that defiles that balance. This means hunting the undead—a task that has shaped much of his life. But his journey is far more nuanced than a mere monster hunter on a divine mission.

Urien is a Cambion, born of a demon father and a human mother, a fact that has marked him as an outsider since birth. Raised in an orphanage dedicated to the worship of Avrena, he grew up surrounded by whispers, fear, and hatred. Humans, both fearful and superstitious, saw him as a cursed being—a living reminder of the demonic forces they feared. This childhood of isolation and constant bullying taught him that no matter how much good he might do, his heritage would always make him something to be feared. His only solace was his faith in Avrena and the teachings of the goddess that guided his every action.

Urien's internal struggle revolves around this complex relationship with his identity. He is a man of faith who fervently believes in Avrena’s will, yet he is haunted by his demonic bloodline. Despite his religious dedication, a part of him wonders if his existence itself is a blight on the balance he so fervently protects. His magic, drawn from a sacred pact with Avrena, manifests in the form of tattoos etched across his body, which glow with divine power when he calls upon his magic. These tattoos are not only symbols of his faith but a constant reminder of the pact that keeps him tethered to something greater than himself—something he believes makes him worthy despite his demon blood.

Urien’s relationship with Darius adds layers to this moral dilemma. By all accounts, Darius, a vampire, should be Urien’s enemy. The undead are an abomination to Avrena’s sacred balance. However, Urien’s pragmatic side sees an opportunity. Instead of eliminating Darius outright, he chooses to use him—a willing tool to hunt down other undead. It’s a calculated decision, but it’s also laced with moral ambiguity. Can the very thing he is sworn to destroy be an ally? What happens when the line between tool and companion begins to blur?

As Urien fights alongside Darius, his convictions are tested. His black-and-white view of the world, driven by his role as inquisitor, slowly begins to shift. Darius, though undead, proves to be more human than many mortals Urien has known. The reader is taken on a journey with Urien as he confronts the contradictions in his faith, his role, and his feelings toward Darius.

Through Urien’s eyes, King of Dust explores themes of identity, purpose, and the tension between duty and personal morality. The reader is invited to question what it truly means to uphold justice and whether someone like Urien—a man born of darkness but dedicated to the light—can ever fully reconcile the two halves of his soul.

Urien’s arc is one of constant internal conflict, and readers will find themselves deeply invested in his evolution. Is redemption possible for someone who believes they’re inherently flawed? Can faith truly override what we are born into? These are the questions Urien grapples with as he moves through the story, making him an unforgettable character in the world of King of Dust.

Want to preorder the book? Check out the link in my pinned post!

[daisymeade]

Tagged by @camelliagwerm to fill this out for an oc! I considered Yirral but felt like this was a great opportunity to give Agda some attention. She needs it. Thanks!

I'll tag: @milesmentis, @mxkelsifer, @mxanigel, @des-no9, @gothyanki, @turbulentpumpkin43, and @breadedsinner. :)

NAME: Agda Hrotsuitha Feldspar

NICKNAME: Aggie

GENDER: cis woman (she/her)

STAR SIGN: as per the Cosmic Caravan, the Rider.

HEIGHT: 4'5ft / 134.62 cm

ORIENTATION: Lesbian

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Ustalavic (Barrow Dwarf)

FAVOURITE FRUIT: Honeydew melon

FAVOURITE SEASON: Spring, the season of new life!

FAVOURITE FLOWER: Blue iris, which symbolize faith and hope.

FAVOURITE SCENT: Petrichor

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Tea, earl grey, hot.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: A solid eight hours, actually. Lucky gal.

DOGS OR CATS: She's fond of both.

DREAM TRIP: The Everlight Oasis in Kelesh.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: Just one or else she gets anxious.

RANDOM FACT: During the biggest turning point of her life, Agda believes that had she not been saved by a Sarenite cleric (thus becoming one herself), she would have died. This isn't true. She would still have survived, though much worse for wear, and instead become an Inquisitor of Pharasma.

[dujour13]

Owlcatober 4. Luck

part 3 of The Prodigal Tiefling - also on AO3

(CW dead bodies, human sacrifice)

“Knight-Commander. You haven’t slept in at least forty-eight hours. Now that you brought my wife back safely, I’m officially declaring bedtime.”

“I just have to make sure—”

“About face, soldier.” Anevia seized his shoulders and turned him toward his tent among the trees at the base of Lost Chapel Hill. He almost expected a boot in the backside.

“Fine. Wake me at midday.” Maybe a couple hours’ sleep would prevent him making rash decisions, like running the Hellknight paralictor who’d invited himself along on the crusade out of the camp before he could make another scathing remark.

Scathing remarks that hit too close to home.

The paralictor was right, anyone minimally competent would never have let this happen. The Crusade had been woefully unprepared.

If only he’d deployed more scouts, reinforced camp defenses, put a stop to the drunkenness and gambling, and been more vigilant for traitors, just as the Inquisitors kept warning him to do even as he sent them packing back to Nerosyan.

Yet he had to stay true to his vision. That sleepless night at the Defender’s Heart when the Queen had proposed he take up the banner of the Fifth Crusade, his dreams of igniting the flames of freedom to fight the Abyss felt like divine inspiration, as if Desna Herself breathed hope into his heart so that he could lead this Crusade in a whole new fashion, one never attempted before, like his homeland Andoran a grand experiment in the strength of egalitarianism.

There would be hitches. He’d never deluded himself otherwise. But this was one big hitch, and entirely his fault.

The moment he closed the tent flap behind him his whole body shuddered violently. This was why he didn’t want to sleep, and why he didn’t want to be alone. The last thing he needed was time to think.

The gargoyle disaster. The last-ditch march on the Lost Chapel. Crusaders transformed into ghouls and hung from meathooks. The showdown with Nulkineth. Another surge of power like the one at the Gray Garrison, this one stronger yet, making him feel too big for his body, like his insides were made of pure, boiling stars and magic, like he was an alchemist’s bomb and the glass was cracking. This whole thing was one huge cosmic mistake.

His hand went to the butterfly pendant at his throat. Lady of Dreams. Wake me, tell me this is a nightmare.

He dropped onto his bedroll and shakily tried to remove his soaking boots and socks, until one sock stuck and he didn’t think he had the strength to peel it off his leg and he began to sob.

And the worst of it.

Woljif.

Of course he ran. He had every reason to run. Why did it bother him so much?

The Knight-Commander crumpled onto his bedroll, one wet sock halfway off, crying into the crook of his arm.

Gods, they had to find him, out there alone in the Worldwound. If the gargoyles didn’t get him something else would before long, resourceful as he was, and that would be one more death on Siavash’s conscience he really didn’t need.

The Sellen! I’m sure of it.

Pretty sure.

With the renewed energy of the last dying spark of hope Woljif waded through tall grasses onto the riverbank and began to stagger downstream, boots dragging on glacial gravel. He reckoned Kenabres couldn’t be that far now. Probably. Maybe.

Half-dead from exhaustion he didn’t even see the remains of the campfire until he almost stumbled on it. His feeble heart leapt. Civilization!

The campsite was by no means fresh, but strewn around the ashes were comforting signs actual people had been here, maybe only a day or two ago. They’d pulled bleached logs into a circle around their fire, all cozy-like, and roasted something on whittled sticks that still smelled tantalizingly of grease.

Not far now. Just a little rest and a few more hours’ walk and we’ll be there.

Where? Wherever—a hunters’ lodge or a farm or the temple of an evil god or anything would do at this point. He knew his last dregs of strength would soon run dry.

Knees wobbling, Woljif lowered himself onto one of the logs and then jumped up again in horror as it ceded with a disgusting, foul-smelling sigh under his weight.

A dead body.

Dry-heaving to within an inch of his life he crawled blindly away toward the river.

It was bad. A couple days old, ashen-skinned, bloated and fly-ridden. A human man, stripped to his trousers, his hands bound tightly behind him, and a great, ragged hole carved out of his chest like somebody didn’t quite know how to get to the heart and had to dig around. When he realized the dark patches on the river gravel were blood, their pattern suddenly resolved itself into a sloppy pentagram.

His head spun, his limbs felt like lead, every inch of him hurt. The hunger was a raging animal tearing him up from the inside.

Woljif lay flat on the gravel and moaned at the cursed morning sky overhead.

I’m not gonna make it. This is it. End a’ my miserable, pathetic life. How’s that for tragedy. He died young and poor, tossed on the riverbank like an old rag for nothin’ but crows to find and eat out his eyeballs. Never had time to strike it rich. And just when things were lookin’ up, and he had his legacy and fr—associates and everything.

Tears rolled down Woljif’s temples and soaked into his curls.

And nobody could care less.

As soon as his head hit the folded-up cloak he used as a pillow, all the pent-up anguish exploded into Siavash’s skull, hammering so he thought he’d never be able to sleep. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes as if to hold his skull together and played his last resort card: prayer.

Great Dreamer, Song of the Spheres, Lady of Luck.

Help.

All right, I know you’re not going to come down and sort out this whole mess, so I just ask one thing. One little thing is all, though gods know I don’t deserve it. Not for me.

Just make sure Woljif is safe. Please.

The prayer was barely finished before sweet oblivion took him.

Though he’d given up all hope, lying there on the riverbank until Pharasma took pity on him just felt too pathetic even for him. Woljif eventually hauled himself to his aching feet and carried on trudging down the river, mind blank, regret clawing at his heart and the shadow raging in his ears.

It was for sure talking to him for real now.

Unless he’d gone completely off his head, which was more than likely.

Especially because he now thought he could smell nice, crispy roasting meat on the wind. No way that was real.

Or was it?

Had his luck turned? The smell jolted him out of his daze so thoroughly he got his wits back just in time to stop himself from stumbling like a madman into the campsite that he soon located. Instead he laid low, listening in on the morbid conversation around the campfire and plotting his salvation. Some poor sod in mud-stained Iomedean colors languished roped to a tree while the cowled figures around the fire debated how best to go about removing his heart still beating, because surely that would invoke the most powerful of demonic magics, and then they would have it made.

So that’s their game.

Idiots. I can pull this off.

He drew the Moon of the Abyss out from his collar so that it shone in full view, summoned up a good gout of blue flame, and stepped into the circle of firelight with all the semblance of self-assurance he could muster when he felt like he was about to pass out.

“Hail Baphomet.”

[skekdris]

SkekDris: Radiant Star

Commission done by SkekLa over at DeviantArt!

In the late 1600's two kingdoms warred, using state sanctioned mages as tools of war to carry out the Nation's. Not every mage was aligned. A lone Skeksis was more content in studying the cosmos and astral projecting across the stars to learn the secrets of the constellations. Nonetheless, the shadowy figures that had orchestrated their war made it clear that all non-aligned mages (read: fanatically devoted) were to be eliminated. SkekDris was seemingly an important enough target to send in a specialized team of hunters that had a mythical beholder under their thrall, a creature thought to be of fables past. One look of it's gaze could neutralize the magic a mage could wield, making them easy pickings.

SkekDris, was cornered in his tower that had been set ablaze. Multiple lifetimes worth of work, knowledge, priceless heirlooms and unforgettable mementos, gone. With nothing left, he looked to the stars he spent his life gazing upon. In those final moments, he saw something different, the shimmering, impossible constellations that only his alien eyes could make sense of seemed to collapse down into something knowable. The constellations themselves were the ley lines of the universe, and the magic that flowed through it. And what he saw was more startling; out of those infinite arrangements of stars, the constellations that appeared to him matched the natural weave of his own self.

In that moment of realization, the weave of the cosmos reached down to him with an invisible runner of magic - the instant it touched skekdris and bridged the earth and stars, unfathomable power ignited the SkekSis' soul. The power was overwhelming; too much even, yet the map of the cosmos allowed him to guide the magic's flow in such fashion, that it would not immediately destroy him. Instead, magic flowed from his body like a cascade from the sun - power pure and unending. One of the dark mages shouted to the enthralled beholder. "What the hell are you doing? I thought you were supposed to dispel magic!" To which the inquisitor mage turned around, and witnessed a sight that filled him with terror in his final moments; The beholder had nothing to gaze upon, for they were blinded by the radiance of the sun tenfold. That one day of cosmic power cost SkekDris decades of his life - but that was sacrifice he was willing to make to put an end to this scheming war of nations.

What SkekDris had discovered was a phenomena that would later coined as "Radiant Star" (as this setting has not developed the term nova). In essence, magic flows through the body at means exceedingly beyond what is natural. In nearly all cases, it results in the death of the mage through loss of lifespan… or more immediate conflagration. But SkekDris in his moment of clarity in the storm, had the means channel this tremendous power. In this state one can cast spells without effort or limit.

To put this into more game-y terms, no spell slots, no verbal or material requirements, and all spells are massively upcast to the point magic even basic spells like missile looks more like magic fireball. Oh, and anything that can detect/see magic within several miles is basically witnessing the flash of a nuclear explosion. Continuously.

Even with the skill and know how to channel this power "safely;" the strain it puts on the body and soul is immense. Unlimited power seems to have it's limitations in the form of the vessel that wields it. Unrivaled power as it is, SkekDris hopes he never has to use it again.

[scribeofmorpheus]

HARELLAN - Lathbora Viran

Halamshiral had felt like the end. A cruel twist of fate, a dagger in the back. For, not long before the tear in the sky had threatened to take the few things unspoiled by corruption, Halamshiral had been the start of something:

Two elves secreted away on a balcony amid a deadly game of succession. An apostate with far more knowledge than any Dalish Keeper and the ‘knife ear’ Inquisitor, an eager Knight-Enchanter in training with far too much curiosity. She who desired to consume all knowledge offered as if it were a cursed nature, and he who obliged as if there were no other alternatives; as if their meeting had been written in the stars thousands of years ago.

For a time, the Inquisitor had believed such a fallacy; that their union was stronger than any threat they’d face; that the stars were the only cosmic powers capable of separating what they’d strung together.

After all, they had fate on their side. Did they not?

In the beginning, Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel had often praised Revas' father, a simple hunter with sure aim and Andruil’s blessing on his forehead, for bestowing such a strong name on his lan’s shoulders. Ilaan Revasan of Clan Lavellan. The Many Sacrifices for Freedom's Flight. Headstrong and naïve, Revas had believed such a name an honour too, thinking herself special in some way. Chosen.

Sure enough, fate had greater things in store for her than being First to the Keeper.

At Adamant, the Anchor had grabbed hold of her with its cold, ancient magic, it made a pawn out of a simple elf, and a saviour out of a scared, devout Dalish. Of course, the child named for the many sacrifices borne in service of elven freedom would be chosen to lead the Inquisition, and Thedas, to victory against assured damnation. Fortune smiled on her, perhaps for too long, and she saw it as irrefutable evidence that she was destined to usher in an age of equality for her people.

It was all a wonderful, childish dream.

Then she learned the cruelty of the Vallaslin she wore—the mangled reach of the past, her people’s history already so broken and scattered, revealed to be nothing more than remnants of other oppressions—and the dream shattered.

With that truth, she lost her faith in Dirthamen, in the secreted knowledge he promised, and she lost her lust for the words of ceremony she’d often dreamed of uttering in vows: “Sylaise enaste var aravel. Lama, ara las mir lath. Bellanaris.” Most painful of all, she lost the one who called her His Heart. The one who painted frescoes in Skyhold—his hold—and called it hers.

She lost the elf that had been ‘just Solas’.

And now what was left?

[xx]

[elvhenprince]

some thoughts now that i had time to mull over it:

the Main plot between solas and rook isnt really a problem for me, but. i find myself feeling kind of hollow and empty after davg. its not a bad game, and i was prepared to love it, but i love thedas because im attached to my warden, my hawke, my inquisitor, and their relationships and choices- and this game just did away with a lot of that.

so many stories lately go in a "theres a bigger, bigger evil" route and they dont always pan out. if you choose to go "theres another bigger cosmic evil" at some point you lose sight of scale.